


Deepest Secret Nobody Knows

by DostoevskyBrosK



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Soulmate by Touch, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DostoevskyBrosK/pseuds/DostoevskyBrosK
Summary: Soulmate AU. In a world where in 500,000 humans there will be one with a soulmate, most children grow up longing to be part of such a mystical fate. Polite society finds it mostly troublesome and in the upper class there tends to be less of a focus on it. Everyone is expected to wear gloves at all times with few exceptions. However, most still long to be part of a fated pair. Elizabeth and Jane more enjoy teasing each other about it, but on the night of Netherfield ball the whispered legend will become all too real.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 106
Kudos: 262





	1. Wonder Keeping the Stars Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I love Soulmate AUs, so I wanted to try my own version of one (not sure it really works). I thought it would be fun to do all ee cummings for this story, maybe especially because of the incomparable poem “[i carry your heart with me (i carry it in],” which I love so very much. I will put it in the note after Chapter 1 because I am going to use it for that title as well.  
> Note: This story is written by me (although obviously inspired by another's work). I do not want this posted anywhere else.  
> © All rights reserved.  
> No part of this publication (unless for personal use) may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, stored in a database and / or published in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Jane and Elizabeth rode together to the ball at Netherfield. They both felt the excitement of the day building and had been giddy all day. “Still, do not lose heart, Jane. You have not yet touched Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth reminded Jane in a whisper so that no one else could hear.

“Lizzy, hush! You know we are not supposed to talk about that.”

Elizabeth smiled, seeing the blush paint itself across Jane’s cheeks. “You are right, of course. I just wanted to remind you that this could be the night.”

“You are ridiculous.” Jane huffed, but the smile on her face would not go away. “What about you, then? Are you hoping that Wickham will be there tonight and that you will graze skins, finding him to be your soul’s perfect match?”

Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to blush. “Jane, you know perfectly well that I have no such thoughts in my head. And not just because we have already touched to no avail.”

That made Jane sit up straighter in the carriage, though she tried to not call attention to their whispered conversation. “What? I do not remember you telling me that.”

“Did I not?” Elizabeth asked, genuinely surprised. “It was the last time we saw him. He accidently touched my arm, above my glove.”

“But was he not wearing gloves?” Jane asked in consternation.

“That is the funny thing. I thought he was, but he must have taken them off for one thing or another.” Elizabeth shrugged, not too bothered by it. In the country it was not considered quite as taboo to touch each other, especially if one thought there could be a link there.

Jane was still a little shocked as they pulled up to Netherfield. “That seems a bit odd, Elizabeth. Be careful with him tonight, for me?”

“Of course, Jane.”

They all stepped down from the carriage and entered the house. It was a crush of people. _Many of whom will likely touch. It is not that big of a deal. It happens._ Elizabeth felt a little cross with Jane for her intimation that Wickham could have been up to something. She greeted the hosts perfunctorily and then quickly made a pass through each room, trying to see if she could see Wickham.

Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield and looked in vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than might be won in the course of the evening. But in an instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy’s pleasure in the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and though this was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by his friend Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and who told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business the day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant smile, “I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.”

This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by Elizabeth, and, as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make. Attendance, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away with a degree of ill-humor which she could not wholly surmount even in speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her.

But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humor; and though every prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her spirits; and having told all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her particular notice. The first two dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, apologizing instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.

Wincing, she noticed Mr. Collins approach Mr. Darcy, without an introduction. He made several obsequious bows, which caused her to cringe, and then started prattling on about the perfection of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and how honored Mr. Darcy must feel being related to such a wonderous personage. Elizabeth felt mortified on his behalf, knowing he would not even realize how toadish he was being.

She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Charlotte tried to console her: “I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”

“Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.”

Charlotte laughed with her, “Who knows. Perhaps he will prove to be your soul’s other half?”

“Charlotte, do you hate me? How dare you wish such a thing on me.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy moved rather quickly away once he had finally secured Miss Elizabeth’s promise to dance with him in the next set. He felt excited and exhilarated. He had tried to dance with her before at Lucas Lodge, and she had teasingly turned him down. He thought, if he was not entirely misreading the situation, because she recognized how silly that dancing was. _Here though, at Netherfield, it cannot be unseemly to dance._

He waited for the current dancing to end and let himself dwell on the finest of eyes. _They really do sparkle when you look into them. I have never seen such happy, mischievous eyes. Yet, she is so kind. I have seen her help more than one awkward younger woman, needing some guidance. I think she invites you to the mischief but does not make you a fool for it. She enjoys it and wants you to as well._ He smiled as he thought about how delightful she was.

 _Come on, Darcy, get it together. Do not be so ridiculous. You can enjoy her eyes and her wit, but do not get ahead of yourself. You hardly know her._ He tried to remind himself coldly, but his traitorous heart broke in. _That is not true. You know that she is kind and would go well out of her way to help her sister, which will make her eyes burn even brighter because of the exercise_. He pushed himself off the wall. _I am not help._

He began to wander around the different rooms to try and make time go faster. Once he found the courage to ask, now all he wanted was to go claim Elizabeth. _Why am I being so irrational with her?_ He found himself thinking as he watched her mother, calling across too great a distance to be considered polite about how lucky it was to have a daughter so well placed, to help her other daughters also catch rich husbands. He turned away, horrified. _Bingley has not even made his intentions known with Miss Bennet. I cannot believe Mrs. Bennet is so crude and crass. You would think they were a fated pair with the way she takes it for granted that they are going to marry. Not only that, but it is so crass to be talking that way in front of everyone._

Darcy absently rubbed at his skin that had prickled up, unknowingly hiking the sleeve of his left arm a little. This exposed a small, innocent sliver of skin. Not really anything worth noting, but if the gentleman had but realized he would hardly have been spending his time calling Elizabeth’s mother crass. In the higher circles of society, it was considered repugnant to employ any sort of machinations for touching skin with another. Darcy would have been very ashamed of himself. As it was, he did not notice and wandered into the next room. Here he witnessed Mary demanding attention and crying in the arms of her father. He felt rather bad for the girl, but felt it was the fault of the father for not helping her be less awkward in society. _And really, if they were not all out, all at once, this would hardly be a problem. I daresay Miss Elizabeth’s family would not appear quite as bad if it were not for her younger sisters being quite young. I am sure Georgiana would act inappropriately if she was too was out already._

Thinking of Georgiana brought all the guilt that was constantly simmering under the surface for Darcy. Again, the irony was lost on Darcy as he just judged the younger Bennet girls, but none of them had been caught in such a scandal as Georgiana this summer. Darcy clenched his hand together in a fist. _I cannot believe that cad Wickham is stationed here. What are the chances?_ He marched purposefully into yet another room, trying to escape his own dour and frustrated thoughts. _Where does he find the gall? I can never imagine acting the way he does and then boldly meeting me as if he has nothing to be ashamed for. Making Georgiana believe they were fated for each other. It is too cruel_.

Finally, Darcy noticed the other dance was finishing up, and he tried to put himself in a better frame of mind. _I want to enjoy Miss Elizabeth_. He moved to where she still stood, talking with her friend.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth and Charlotte spoke happily until Darcy came to claim her hand. As he was collecting her, Elizabeth made one more quiet remark, just so Charlotte could hear. “Do not wish anything more on me, Charlotte, I find it difficult enough to put up with this.”

Charlotte shook her head, while laughing. She whispered back to her friend, “Come, Elizabeth. Do not be a simpleton. Do not let your regard for Wickham let yourself appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence.”

Elizabeth made no answer, and took her place in the set with Mr. Darcy. She was amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and reading in her neighbors’ looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with:—“It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”

He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said. He moved along with the dance, enjoying his time with Elizabeth immensely. Yet again, he did not notice that each movement seemed to elongate the gap between his gloves and his left sleeve, which was still caught and needed straightening out. One would have thought that a man who was indoctrinated so early in the highest of society would know the importance of being aware of what skin was showing where, but he was rather too lost in the wit of his dance partner.

“Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But _now_ we may be silent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title, as mentioned before, comes from “[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in].” Here is the whole of this lovely poem:  
> i carry your heart with me(i carry it in  
> my heart)i am never without it(anywhere  
> i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done  
> by only me is your doing, my darling)  
> i fear  
> no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want  
> no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)  
> and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant  
> and whatever a sun will always sing is you
> 
> here is the deepest secret nobody knows  
> (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud  
> and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows  
> higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)  
> and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
> 
> i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


	2. Pity Poor Flesh and Trees

Darcy was immensely enjoying his dance with Miss Elizabeth. He loved the way she teased, and while her family still bothered him, he found himself not caring too much. She was so beautiful to look at, and dancing did afford the best opportunity for looking.

The dance was getting to its more intricate part, and Darcy crossed his arm over hers, as was the style. It was the kind of dance that repeated itself many times, so this was the first of several crossing of arms and hands. When the dance first premiered in 1782 it was considered a bit scandalous. All of the crossing ensured that a woman’s bare arm would come in contact with the gentleman she was dancing with. This really was of no consequence because the men were covered everywhere but their face, which would be left alone. It was more the titillation the dance engendered and the feeling that at any moment there might be skin contact, which of course never happened.

Or never should happen.

Darcy crossed his hands over to hers yet again, his left over to her right and then they switched sides. Pressed a little closer to her than he would normally allow himself, Darcy enjoyed the feeling of warmth her skin radiated. _She does have such lovely skin. Not exactly pure alabaster as so many are fond of praising. I never thought that was so interesting. Rather, it is so creamy looking, and so many colors paint their way across the surface._ Darcy would have been very embarrassed if anyone were to listen to his rambling thoughts. Thank goodness no one was.

But that all changed with Elizabeth’s left arm reached over to Darcy’s right hand, and in doing so, covered his left arm, leaning against it for the merest second. That is all it takes, as any story book would explain. And in that moment, their skin met, for the first time.

Darcy was not sure what was happening at first. Intellectually, he did not even realize their skin touched. But he felt as if his whole body had been shocked. A delicious zinging sensation radiated from his left arm through his entire body, traveling up his spine and down to the inside of his shoes.

 _What was that?_ He wondered to himself, trying not to miss any of the dance, but then it seemed like time had frozen for him in that moment. _Has it?_ Darcy tried to test the sensation by swiveling his head to the side. All he could see was Elizabeth Bennet. Everything else around them had faded away into mere blurs of color. But, Elizabeth looked to be sharper than ever before. Really, Darcy would say this is the first time he had really seen her.

He noticed her beauty, yet again, which was not too surprising since he had been dwelling on it in increasingly worrisome ways, but now it seemed as if he could almost read her character with his eyes, if he looked hard enough. If he looked in the right places. When he looked into her sparkling eyes, he saw her love for others clearly printed there. He also saw the frustration of being from her family. She loved them, _as she should, which simply goes to show her generous spirit_ , but she was irritated that they would make such embarrassing displays, _understandable, but not a big deal. I think my family can more than compensate for that._ He looked down at her lips, a place he had worked hard not to look before, and enjoyed seeing their juicy redness, _like a perfect apple._ From her lips he saw how words flowed out of her, sometimes with great purpose, but also just for the pleasure of speaking and being heard. _It is already one of my favorite things about you._ He still felt frozen in that moment and tried to relax and enjoy it.

 _I never thought I would experience this, although fated pairings are thought to be hereditary. That never really seemed to make sense before. Why would they be hereditary? How does it even work? But this does feel like Father used to describe it, and he also used to tease me about trying to be too scientific with things that defy what we know of science._ Darcy was unconsciously smiling, feeling joy pervade his heart. _I cannot believe I am a part of a fated pair. I wonder if we will be as happy as Mother and Father were together. I always thought that would be impossible. I never really wanted to get married without their deep affection, and I was afraid it would be impossible for me to find._

Darcy was feeling overwhelmed with love and good will, for his fated pair and for the world. This is the most common reaction to the first touch of a fated pair. There have been enough scholars who have written on the subject for most to feel clear on what is common and what is uncommon. However, it is by no means the only reaction someone can have. Each person experiences it from their own perspective, and there have been some fascinating studies done exploring how the typically more reticent person is often more open with their fated while the more exuberant person will become more restrained. This phenomenon is called Contrariorum and has been one of the most popular aspects in the field to be studied.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

If anyone were asked, they would admit to wanting to be part of a fated pair. It was deeply sought after, but something that society eschewed. Since so few of its members got to be a part of a pair (it was, to the surprise and disgust of most members of the _ton_ , more common among poorer families), they started to explain how it was not that good. That it should not be overly enjoyed or explored. And sometimes there were whispers that someone who was a part of a pair was doomed in some way.

Elizabeth had always prided herself on mocking such thoughts. She felt like society was just showing its own jealousy, and she had explored, for many hours, with Jane what it would feel like to be part of a fated pair. No one in their family had been one, at least that anyone could remember. _And you would remember, surely_. So, she relied on other accounts, heard mostly from the priest at their church. Since he had married a number of them, he seemed to know.

And right now, well, right now, Elizabeth was worried that it was exactly what she was experiencing. A zipping incandescent tingling curled spiraled around her, starting at her arm. It seemed to carefully wrap around each part of her body down to each fingertip and then around to the ends of her hair and then down to her feet. Elizabeth felt overwhelmed with the sensation. She really wanted to sit down but was instead afforded a time to stare at the man who was, apparently, her fated pair.

He was handsome. She had never tried to deny that _Had I? I do not think I have. That would be silly of me, because of course he is handsome. Far more handsome than Wickham._ She wanted to roll her eyes at herself. _Where did that thought come from? But I suppose it is not wrong. Look at the richness of his hair and the warmth in his eyes. Have his eyes ever looked warm before? They seem to speak of the good care he takes of his tenants, which is silly. How could his eyes tell me of that?_

Wanting to stop looking at his face, Elizabeth jerked her head down to his hands, which were still clutching hers. _Even gloved, they look beautiful. They seem to speak to me of strength of will and determination. A desire to protect others, especially the weak, from harm._ Her eyes snapped back up to his face, confused by her own thoughts. The warmth was still tingling around her, but Elizabeth felt mostly confusion. _Is this like what Father Matt described?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy was not sure how to read Elizabeth’s current expression, it looked mostly befuddled. _Adorable. I wonder if she does not have any close personal acquaintances or family that are part of a fated pair. Maybe she is not quite sure what is happening?_ Darcy felt a delicious excitement at the thought that perhaps he would be able to teach about this occurrence to Elizabeth. _I am sure she makes a delightful pupil._ As Darcy was caught in his thoughts, suddenly everything around them seem to speed ahead to catch up with what must have been their Minute of Knowing.

Darcy realized that it would be silly to continue to dance, although he rather wished they could. He wanted to lean down to Elizabeth and whisper in her ear that he did love the way she looked as she danced. _But there will be time enough for that later. Right now, I should see about getting ourselves a little more privacy_.

Luckily, _Or perhaps it is not mere luck, rather it is fate_ , they were at the front of the line, and it was quite easy to step off the dance floor. Darcy eagerly maneuvered them to an out of the way alcove by a window that looked out on one of the gardens.

Darcy had never felt such a rush of excitement. It filled him, impressing upon him the great gift he had been given. He was still holding Elizabeth’s hand and had begun to unconsciously rub it. _How can I be so happy? It almost feels indecent. Perhaps country manners are not so bad. Which really should not surprise me since I most prefer to be at Pemberley rather than in London. I am sure Elizabeth will feel the same way when she sees it for the first time. I cannot wait to show her._

Darcy looked down at Elizabeth, looking at their joined hands and smiled back at her. He felt himself welling up with words, which was a rather new experience for him. “So, Miss Elizabeth, it would seem that we are fated to be together.” He paused to share a smile with her, but he was so caught up in his own thinking and trying to order his thoughts that he missed the fact that you cannot share a smile if the other person is frowning at you.

“I have to say I am shocked I found my Other Half here in the wilds of Hertfordshire. It is such a quaint part of the country. Nothing wrong with it, of course, I just did not expect it to happen in this way. Truthfully, I never expected it to happen at all. I am so very happy. And you are too, of course. I am not sure what you are thinking, but I think a quick wedding would be the best.” Darcy almost rubbed his hands together he was so excited to imagine Elizabeth at Pemberley with him. “Of course, I will need to introduce you to Georgiana. Do not worry. She is so easy to get along with and will not look down on you at all.

“Your family, which can be quite embarrassing, I mean I just saw the most inappropriate behavior from your younger sisters, your mother, and your father _just_ tonight. You also have family in trade, which … well you know. But I do not want you to think about that at all. You will never hear a word of recrimination from me about them. As they are your family. I will try to get along with them too. And, naturally, once we go to Pemberley, we do not have to see them all that often.” Darcy knew he was rambling, but he could not help it. He had never just spoken what he was feeling before. Usually, everything was carefully weighed and measured with him. It was a delight to let it flow out of him without thought. Without concern. Knowing that his Other Half was the one he was talking to.

“I want you to know how excited I am, Elizabeth. I am going to make you so happy, and we are going to have what my parents had. I cannot wait to be a part of that with you. I do not think I have mentioned it yet, but, of course, now it makes sense. I was unaccountably drawn to you, even though I knew that you were not really a good match for me. I could not seem to stop myself from being drawn to you. It is so obvious now. You were meant for me, which is why I found myself staring at your fine eyes, and just enjoying who you are. Did it surprise you? Or were you also feeling drawn to me as I was to you? You are so beautiful, Elizabeth. I cannot wait to get married to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title comes from “[pity this busy monster, manunkind,]” which is a strange yet delightful poem. I love the way it delays the turn of ‘not’ all the way until the second stanza. What a master! I think it works really well for this chapter as well:  
> pity this busy monster, manunkind,
> 
> not. Progress is a comfortable disease:  
> your victim (death and life safely beyond)
> 
> plays with the bigness of his littleness  
> \--- electrons deify one razorblade  
> into a mountainrange; lenses extend  
> unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish  
> returns on its unself.  
> A world of made  
> is not a world of born --- pity poor flesh
> 
> and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this  
> fine specimen of hypermagical
> 
> ultraomnipotence. We doctors know
> 
> a hopeless case if --- listen: there's a hell  
> of a good universe next door; let's go


	3. A Leaf Falls on Loneliness

Elizabeth could not believe what she was hearing. Honestly, she was having a rather difficult time following it all because it was such an avalanche of words. At any other time, she would have been most diverted by the thought of Mr. Darcy rambling and being a bit awkward with his words. But, as it was, right now, hearing the pompous, arrogant Darcy making decisions about her life, without even asking her, just filled her with fury.

 _This man is still holding my hand after everything he has detailed about how inadequate I am. How is he so full of himself to not be able to notice how furious he is making me?_ Elizabeth ferociously tore her arm out of his grip. She exerted more force than she needed and even managed to dislodge one of Darcy’s buttons. Not that either of them noticed it slip into her glove. Taking her body away from him, she enjoyed watching the confusion play across his face. _Ah, so you do not get to just control everything, do you, Mr. Darcy? Least of all me, which I intend to show you._

“It seems, Mr. Darcy, that you have made several leaps ahead of yourself. As someone who has known you for only a few weeks now, I can say that I am not really surprised. This is exactly how I imagined you would act. It is my turn to speak. Let me list the problems I am having with your ridiculous speech.

“First, you talk of marriage. Did I miss the part where you proposed to me? How silly of me. Oh no, it is because you skipped that part. You did not propose, you merely assumed. Did it not occur to you that I perhaps would not want to marry you? Does my consent not matter at all? It is immaterial to your desires, I suppose. But, sorry to inform you, it is hardly immaterial to my own. So, you will have to find it in yourself to forgive me for prioritizing my wishes over your, oh, so important ones. 

“Second, you seem to think we are in some sort of fairytale told to children where we are fated to be together. I have never heard of anything so ludicrous before. Of course, we are not fated pairs. As if fate would be so cruel as to match me with you. It is laughable, by your own admission. You already know yourself to be high and above us pathetic creatures here in Hertfordshire. I suppose you realize that a cow would no more want to be with a horse than a horse with a cow. We are from different worlds, you and I. And I never aspired to enter your own, far and above me, realm.

“Third, you have insulted my family in a way that I do not respect nor cannot support. They are _my_ family, and I suppose you would not like it if I mentioned that I did not particularly want to meet your sister. She sounds as prideful and pompous as you, which, you will forgive me for being frank, is repulsive to me. I could never be with a man who did not respect my own family. I hardly think this is too much to ask.

“Fourth, and perhaps the most important, my thoughts and feelings about you were decided when I heard of your unfair treatment of Mr. Wickham. It is disgusting that you would neglect your own father’s wishes, but I am not really surprised. You seem like the kind of man who would always put his own thoughts and desires above another’s, especially if they were no longer there to make sure you were following their directions.”

Elizabeth had barely let herself catch a breath through her long speech, which of course gave Darcy no time to jump in. He was so startled by what she was saying, he really did not know how to respond anyway. He thought about everything she had just said, as she stared up at him defiantly. “And this is your opinion of me?” He asked in the quietest voice.

Surprising herself, Elizabeth felt guilty for drawing such a small plea from the man she really thought was too prideful to show any sign of humility. But there, in that one sentence, he seemed incredibly vulnerable to her. Despite everything she just said, Elizabeth felt a deep need to reach out to him. To chase away that lost, defeated expression in his eyes.

 _No. Do not be ridiculous. He deserved every word. It is what he needed to hear. You do not want to be married to him just because he is rich. It is better this way_. She looked back into his eyes, seeing if he would say anything else, but he really did just look like a lost boy.

“It is.” She finally managed to say.

His eyes searched hers, “You really felt nothing for me?” He asked, trying to strengthen his voice but not succeeding very well.

“Never.” She lied without realizing it.

“Very well. I will leave you now.” He managed to grit out before disappearing. She did not see where he slipped away to, and she tried to convince herself that she did not care.

 _Jane? Where is Jane? She will understand. She will help me._ Elizabeth frantically scanned across the room to find her sister. The dance she had been dancing with Darcy was just finishing up, surprising her with how little time had passed. Bingley was leading Jane away from the dance floor, and Elizabeth quickly maneuvered herself to intercept them.

“Jane. Jane, I need to talk with you. Please.” Elizabeth said with far too much emotion.

“Good God, Miss Elizabeth. Whatever is wrong?” Bingley asked in confusion.

“Of course, Lizzy. Mr. Bingley, will you take us to somewhere more private?” Jane sweetly asked. Bingley got a little lost looking at her kind smile that he answered a beat too late, “Anything you wish, Miss Bennet.”

He took them to the library and left them alone together with a lingering look at Jane.

“I am so sorry sister,” Elizabeth said, “I know you were enjoying your time with Bingley, but . . . well, I do not know how to say it.”

“Is this about you and Mr. Darcy moving out of the dance?” Jane asked.

“Yes. Yes. You see, something strange happened, and time did seem to slow. It did. But that was all. It was not anything else. I do not think. And then he pulled me aside. I yelled at him. I know I did that. And I think . . . oh, I do not know what to think.” Elizabeth let her voice trail out.

“Lizzy, you are shaking. I do not think you are alright. Stay here.” Jane pushed her sister down into a chair. “I will get Father. We need to leave, clearly.”

Elizabeth was not sure how long her sister was gone, in fact she seemed to be having a hard time making sense of anything. Emotions were rolling through her. They seemed to be her own, but every now and then, she was pretty sure they were not. She was so confused.

The next time she was aware, she found herself undressed and in her nightgown. She was tucked securely in bed and thought she heard some shouts in the house. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but it all felt like too much. 

Jane opened the door quietly. “Sorry about all the noise. Mother is rather furious at me for leaving early. But do not worry, Lizzy. I had a nice quiet talk with Bingley. He was waiting outside of the library for us because he was so worried for you. And do you know, Lizzy. He asked if he could call on me alone tomorrow. So, I think it does not matter that we left early.”

Elizabeth managed a smile for her sister. “No, it does not. Maybe it is better we left early. Did you see how Lydia was starting to act?”

“You are right there. Now, Lizzy, I am going to help you sit up, and you are going to drink this tea. It will help you sleep. Then, in the morning, you are going to explain what happened to me.”

“I feel so . . . I do not know, Jane. So broken, so hurt, so confused. What is happening to me?”

“Do not worry. We will get it all sorted in the morning.” Jane gently rubbed Elizabeth’s head with some soothing ointment. 

“You are a good sister, Jane.” Elizabeth managed to breath out, which made Jane laugh.

“As are you. Now stop fighting it. Go to sleep, Lizzy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth woke abruptly. She could tell it was still very early. Probably early enough for the Netherfield ball to still be going on. She quietly moved from the bed, being sure not to disturb Jane, to the window casement. Tucking herself in a blanket, Elizabeth stared into the outside world. The world seemed wrapped in silence and isolation. The fog was spread over the grass, obscuring her view. It made the world look eerie and unnatural. _Why unnatural? Why am I thinking that? Have I denied something to myself that is, by its very nature, part of my being?_ Everything still seemed so foreign. She just could not make sense of any of it.

Elizabeth sighed. _I do not want to be a fated pair with Mr. Darcy. That is ludicrous. It is laughable. He is a bad man. Look at what he did to Wickham – could I really be tied to such a man?_ A niggling thought scratched at her, challenging her idea of Wickham. Maybe he was not all he seemed. Maybe it was strange that he opened up so quickly to a stranger and told such horrible tales. She remembered at the time, Jane could not believe it of Mr. Darcy, especially because he was such friends with Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth had said that she could more easily imagine Mr. Bingley fooled by a fiend than that Mr. Wickham would make up such a story. And yet, now as she looked at the crisp morning, it did seem fantastical that he would share all that with her, so quickly into their acquaintanceship. _No. Come on. Of course, Mr. Wickham is telling the truth. I would not be so easily taken in. Besides, that was hardly my only problem with Darcy. He also_ did _insult my whole family. What kind of man does that? He said he thought me beautiful, but I know that is not true. Did he not say, when he first saw me, that I was merely tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him_?

Elizabeth huffed, puffing her breath onto the glass, fogging it up. _He is arrogant. I do not want that._ But she felt herself shiver. _My family does embarrass me, but what kind of person would hold that up? They are still my family. And I love them. I love them all. Lydia is ridiculous, but she is young. What else would a fifteen-year-old be like? I suppose Miss Georgiana is a paragon of proper behavior._ Elizabeth huffed out another breath at the thought. _I am not even a paragon of proper behavior. Who would be?_

_Besides that, I really am not that special. I did not tempt him all those weeks ago, and I am sure he would tire of me, even if he thinks I am so beautiful he cannot wait to marry me. He cannot have meant that. Why did he say it?_

She felt so angry and hurt. And inadequate. _I am glad we are not really fated pairs because I am not sure what I would do. I know that I do not belong in his world anyway. It does not matter. Why am I thinking about this? He is the one who should be feeling badly because he is the one who acted like the supercilious man I know him to be._

Elizabeth just kept watching as the sun slowly burned the fog away and the rest of the house continued to sleep. Her heart felt heavy, she was miserable, and she was not sure how she ought to act. _He is the last man I could see myself marrying. Is he not?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always loved the frustration this poem engenders, which I think rather suits the notion of trying to understand love. Beyond that the connection to the eternalness of loneliness and the ephemeral nature of a leaf falling works so well. The title comes from “l(a” or “(a leaf falls on loneliness):”  
> l(a
> 
> le  
> af  
> fa  
> ll
> 
> s)  
> one  
> l
> 
> iness


	4. She Laughed His Joy She Cried His Grief

Darcy was shaking and not really sure what to do. His heart was clenched in his chest, and he could not believe what had happened. His parents had always made it seem so magical. The first touch, the shared Minute of Knowing, and then the way each part of the pair got to deepen the relationship with better understanding how to control the shared link that every pair forged. Even in cases of Contrariorum, the two minds would link to some extent.

Darcy reached out to a wall and let himself lean on it for support. _How am I going to make it through the rest of the evening? I will have to find some way, I suppose. I would not want to dishonor Charles by leaving him on his big night. People might say cruel things, and he deserves this ball to be a success_. He looked at the room around him and found a chair not too far away. He sank into the chair, arranged his face carefully into a cool mask of indifference, and attempted to work on solidifying his own being.

He had apparently crafted a reputation because he was not bothered as he sat off to the side except by a woman who looked rather old. He was surprised to see at a ball. She had silver hair and wore a rather rumpled dress but looked elegant, nevertheless. She actually moved to sit nearer to Darcy and did the strangest thing. She reached out her wrinkled hand and took his own. At any other time, Darcy would probably have not wanted a stranger to grab his hand, but he found it remarkably comforting. She squeezed it a little, showing him that she was not as frail as she looked.

“It will be alright, Son. I know you feel devastated just now. But each person’s life is their own, and they all function differently. Do not compare yours to another’s or you will go mad.”

Darcy looked at her in confusion, “Pardon me, Madam, but what are you talking about.”

She patted his arm with her other hand. “As if I do not recognize that look of . . . Well, we will not talk about it then. I will keep you company, and no one will expect you to dance as you are caring for an old woman.”

Darcy could not quite manage a smile, but his eyes did warm. She seemed to respond to that, and he somehow made it through the rest of the night. He did not even notice that the Bennet family had left so soon after their conversation. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That night Darcy was not surprised that he could not sleep at all. He never even bothered to get into bed. Instead, he took a seat in the only chair that afforded him a view out of his window and just stared as it grew darker and darker and then lighter and lighter.

Sometime during the night, he felt a voice in his head, joining his own. He sighed, but he knew this was going to happen. At first it was just snatches of her thoughts that jumped across time and space. Darcy could tell she was not trying to communicate with him, _She probably does not even realize it is happening._ He felt himself flush in frustration and embarrassment. They flitted over the course of several hours, and he just tortured himself with them. He tried not to think much himself, not sure what would flit over to her.

_Of course, Mr. Wickham is telling the truth._

_Did he not say, when he first saw me, that I was merely tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him_? H _e is arrogant. I do not want that._

_He cannot have meant that. Why did he say it?_

_I am glad we are not really fated pairs_

_the supercilious man_

_He is the last man I could see myself marrying._

Darcy could not stand it anymore and realized he was angrily pacing back and forth in front of the window. “I have had enough.” He spoke aloud to himself. Clenching his fist and closing his eyes, Darcy attempted to concentrate. He remembered his mother doing this on more than one occasion when his father was not at Pemberley. When they were closer together, the linking seemed as easy as breathing, but across distance it would take a bit more concentration and intent thinking.

 _A fine opinion you have of me._ He tried to say across the space, waiting for an answer.

 _What is this?_ He could hear Elizabeth’s terror and surprise.

_You have not heard of the mind link that comes with fated pairs?_

_No! Why do you say it . . . think it so calmly? This cannot be happening. You do not get to invade my mind. Get out!_

He imagined her trying to physically push him out of her mind, and it almost made him smile. And then he remembered that she really seemed to hate him and was seeming to reject the pairing.

 _You already said you knew all the ways I was unhappy with this pairing._ He tried to say back to her coldly, but he was pretty sure his anger and hurt was just as palpable as her own.

_I always knew you were no gentleman. Who would not respect a woman asking him to leave?_

Darcy’s heart clenched again, and he felt like he was not only getting nowhere. He seemed to be making things worse. He sank into the chair again.

Y _ou can break the link by not concentrating on me._ He offered a bit meekly, even though it crushed him to imagine that they really would not be able to get past this.

_Of course, it is my fault. I am the one obsessing about you._

_No, obviously, I was concentrating on you too._ He tried to offer her an appeasement, but angry people are not always wise. And she did not seem to forgive him.

Now, he closed his eyes, trying to aid her in pushing away from the link. It seemed like it was broken. So, he poked at it a little, _Miss Elizabeth?_ No response. He took that as a good sign. Then took several breaths and decided to compose a mind letter for her. He had heard his parents talk about these as well. A way to leave a message for the other person whenever they might be able to look at it. It seemed like the best way, and his honor demanded that he respond to her, most especially about Wickham.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth had never felt so furious in her life. _Of all the intrusive, horrible, creepy, intimate things. I cannot believe he came into my mind._ A part of her knew it was not really his fault – no more than it was her own, but she pushed that aside. She wanted to just be angry at him. _He is so full of his own self worth he thinks it is just an honor to be in his presence, never mind the fact that I do not want him at all._ Elizabeth scowled at herself. “I need to stop thinking about him or I might cerate another link.” She spoke aloud, though quietly.

However, Elizabeth is very curious by nature and after a few hours had passed, she did not feel quite as angry at him, and she could see that it was, clearly, not his fault. Mostly, she was fascinated with the fact that she could talk to someone else’s mind. _That really is miraculous. It would be silly to waste it. I just wish I did not have to be joined with such a selfish man._ She closed her eyes and tried to picture him, wondering if that would work for communicating. She just wanted to explore what the possibilities there were.

As soon as she thought of him with purpose, a strange sort of projection appeared in her mind. It was not like he was there, but it was more formal feeling than it had been earlier that morning. The projection began talking,

“Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this mind letter, as my parents used to call them. It is something we can do, if we are separated by distance. Leave a sort of message to be found. I want you to know that I am not seeking to renew my suit. I can tell that you do not want my presence, and I can only apologize for the fact that are minds do share a link. However, do not be overly troubled. I had an aunt whose Other Half rejected her, and she learned how to build a mind wall, which I will construct after I leave this here for you to find in the event you think of me sometime. 

You brought several offences of very different natures to me last night, and I merely wanted to seek a moment to address the one my honor demands me to try to explain. I can only apologize about the first several charges you laid against me. I am sorry, but the situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly, betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father. -- Pardon me. -- It pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honorable to the sense and disposition of both. -- I will only say farther that, from what passed that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducement heightened. I do not wish to pain you, but I also want to be honest.

We will leave the rest, but I must be allowed to address the allusion you made to ‘Poor Mr. Wickham’ and even the thought I overheard this morning that ‘Mr. Wickham is telling the truth.’ I do not imagine that he was actually honest or you would not be thinking of him in such a warm way. With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has particularly accused me, I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates; and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his god-son, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed.

My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge; -- most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman's education. My father was not only fond of this young man's society, whose manners were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities -- the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain -- to what degree you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow, and, if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine, and within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment by which he could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds.

All connection between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretense, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living in question -- of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances -- and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others, as in his reproaches to myself. After this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy.

My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother's nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About seven months ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London; and this summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. Part of the game he played with her is to pretend that they were touching skin for the first time and that they were therefore destined to be together. Georgiana hardly got to see my parents together and has always been desperately curious about fated pairs. She was sure she was going to be one, but did not know what to expect, so believed Wickham when he explained that just the man felt the connection first and that the woman would build the connection after marriage. She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham's chief object was unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed.

This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not, perhaps, to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of every thing concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. I will only add, God bless you.

FITZWILLIAM DARCY.''

Elizabeth felt stunned upon the projection finishing and dissipating in her mind. She did not want to reach out to Mr. Darcy, and she was rather afraid of him hearing her mind. But she had to think through everything he disclosed to her and try to consider what all of that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from the poem “[anyone lived in a pretty how town].” I really love this poem, especially how lyrical it sounds when you read it out loud (do it – read it out loud for yourself or to your dog, which is what I do). So beautiful:  
> anyone lived in a pretty how town  
> (with up so floating many bells down)  
> spring summer autumn winter  
> he sang his didn’t he danced his did.
> 
> Women and men (both little and small)  
> cared for anyone not at all  
> they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same  
> sun moon stars rain
> 
> children guessed (but only a few  
> and down they forgot as up they grew  
> autumn winter spring summer)  
> that noone loved him more by more
> 
> when by now and tree by leaf  
> she laughed his joy she cried his grief  
> bird by snow and stir by still  
> anyone’s any was all to her
> 
> someones married their everyones  
> laughed their cryings and did their dance  
> (sleep wake hope and then) they  
> said their nevers they slept their dream
> 
> stars rain sun moon  
> (and only the snow can begin to explain  
> how children are apt to forget to remember  
> with up so floating many bells down)
> 
> one day anyone died i guess  
> (and noone stooped to kiss his face)  
> busy folk buried them side by side  
> little by little and was by was
> 
> all by all and deep by deep  
> and more by more they dream their sleep  
> noone and anyone earth by april  
> wish by spirit and if by yes.
> 
> Women and men(both dong and ding)  
> summer autumn winter spring  
> reaped their sowing and went their came  
> sun moon stars rain


	5. Negation’s Dead Undoom

Darcy felt confident that his mind letter would work as a way to ensure a communication with Miss Elizabeth, but now he sought to do the more difficult task of constructing a mind wall.

He well remembered the summer Aunt Gertrude came to stay with the family. She was his father’s eldest sister, and Darcy only recalled her from that particular summer. She was a handsome woman, if a bit older than his father, but always seemed swallowed up by a deep grief. As a child he did not understand most of what happened that summer, but he distinctly recollected sitting next to his mother’s feet while he played with some toy soldiers. He was trying to recreate a battle he had just learned about, set in ancient Greece. He heard snatches of conversation float by, but never really considered what it meant when his mother leaned over and whispered, “Maybe you should go be with him and not worry about what everyone expects of you.” And other things.

But when he heard his aunt start crying, he remembered leaving his toys and trying to give her a hug. She had scooped him up and settled him in her lap, her arms locked around him while she cried.

His mother had tried to console her, but nothing seemed to help. Finally, his father burst into the room, and with some excitement explained he found someone to help her construct a “mind wall.” As a child, Darcy thought that sounded fascinating. A nervous looking gentleman had come into the house and anxiously walked Aunt Gertrude through everything she needed to do. Darcy had contrived to be present for most of the sessions, eagerly learning about how someone could manipulate their mind. After that, she did not seem to need to cry as much, but she also seemed to have lost all her warmth. She did not look to Darcy for hugs nor did she remain at the house for long. She left to travel, and Darcy had never heard of her again.

Now, all these years later, Darcy felt anxiety settle across him. He did not really want to lose himself as he had seen Aunt Gertrude lose herself, but he was desperate to show Elizabeth that he _really_ was a gentleman. He steeled his heart and thought back on that summer. He remembered the nervous man guiding Aunt Gertrude through the construction, and he now did that himself. Constructing each metaphorical brick felt like he was tearing at his own soul, but he felt honor bound to follow through with his promise.

Once he was done, Darcy finally collapsed on the bed and thought about what he needed to do now. _I just want to escape back to Pemberley. Maybe I can go to London and get Georgiana, and we can go home._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth did not know what to think. She had considered the mind letter from all angles, and she was still furious with what Darcy had said about her family and how he refused to address her other concerns, but the revelation about Wickham had shaken her. She felt like she had been so wrong about both of these men on some fundamental level. _How could I so misinterpret them? Is it really just my pride? That Mr. Darcy hurt my feelings the first day we met, and I felt vindicated to learn that he was a dishonorable man?_

Elizabeth grabbed her gloves from last night, wanting to put them up, but felt something hard in the finger of one of them. When she pulled the glove inside out, a button rested on her palm. _That is a man’s button. Could it be? . . .Is that Mr. Darcy’s?_ She was not sure, but she felt a strange zip when she held it. Clutching it to her chest, Elizabeth decided she would carry it with her. _And why should I not. It is just a button. Nothing strange in wanting to keep it with me_.

She did not much feel like going down to breakfast but knew that avoiding it after she made everyone leave early would only get her into trouble. She gripped the button in her hand, feeling calmer. 

She sat through an excoriatingly awkward meal, made far more awkward when her mother demanded that she listen to what Mr. Collins had to say. What followed was a terrible falling out. He left their house in a huff, and Elizabeth was in even more trouble from her mother who would have forgiven her the missing of the rest of Netherfield ball if she had gotten herself engaged. But as it was, there was nothing to appease her.

Elizabeth sighed as she took a long walk, hoping to clear her mind and trying to decide what she wanted to share with Jane. Elizabeth was not paying attention to where her feet were taking her and ended up going into an area she usually avoided. To her surprise she saw Lydia creeping around.

“Lydia, what are you doing over here?”  
“Lizzy! Well, . . . what are you?”

“I was simply taking a walk and got a bit turned round. I know that you pride yourself on detesting a walk, so I am afraid my excuse will not work for you, sister.” 

Lydia huffed a little. “Well, it would not be a secret for long anyhow. I was going to meet a man.” Here Lydia took Elizabeth’s hand, “Oh, Lizzy, you will not believe it, but I have actual found my Other Half.”

“What do you mean?”

“I touched someone, and they are my only one.”

“Who is it?”

“I know you will be jealous, but you cannot be. It is fate.”

“Lydia, if you say George Wickham –”

“It IS George Wickham. Are not I the luckiest of women? See I knew you would be jealous!”

Elizabeth tried to calm herself down. “What happened when you touched. Did the world stop for a moment around you?”

“Well, no. But I have heard that many different things can happen. And besides George says that only the man feels it at first. I will feel the connection more when we are married.”

“Of all the sinister, most outrageous things.” Elizabeth grabbed Lydia’s arm. “You are coming back with me, and if Wickham really is your fated pair than he would have no problem coming to speak with Father. Besides, that is a lie. Of course, it is not only the man who gets to feel the connection. What kind of fated pairing would that be?” She had to bodily drag Lydia away, who was not too pleased with her sister’s intervention, but Elizabeth counted herself, and her whole family, lucky to have caught her before she could have gotten into any real trouble.

Once she returned Lydia to the house and forced her sister to explain everything to their father, she went to find Jane, wanting to unburden herself of everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

As Jane and Elizabeth talked, Elizabeth realized that she clearly trusted Darcy to some extent. Indeed, the event with Lydia proved what she had already been thinking because of his letter. She sighed and wondered if she should give him another chance. Perhaps together they could both work to keep open minds and get to a better place. She still thought him a pompous, selfish man. _But maybe that is the part I can help with. Oh, I do not know_. _Maybe it would be good to just have some conversations with him. Unlike Wickham, I do not think he has staged an elaborate hoax. Even I have to admit something with the mind link seems to indicate we are fated._ She pulled out the button she had tied into her handkerchief and starred down at its unusual luster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the day passed quickly, and things seemed to settle down. Elizabeth felt unsure of how to work the mind link and tried concentrating on Darcy, but it did not seem to produce any sort of results. She was sure she was doing something wrong and resolved to ask Father Matt about it.

Before she could visit the parish, the Bennet house was in an uproar because a guest was spotted coming up to the house. Kitty had run in, shouting with excitement that Mr. Bingley had come by himself.

He sat down next to Jane, and they seemed to share a quiet, enjoyable time together. It was clear Mrs. Bennet was trying to think of some way to get them alone together, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, she announced that perhaps everyone would like to take a walk. “Kitty, you must stay here with me and Lydia of course. Mary, I think you said that you had some practicing that you really need to get done, did you not?”

Mary, who would much rather practice instead of going for a walk to watch her sister be awkward around a man, replied rather eagerly, “Yes, Mother.” She dashed over to the piano and her playing rather drove Mr. Bingley, Jane, and Elizabeth outside quite quickly.

Once outside, Elizabeth realized that Mr. Bingley was giving her some odd looks. She had been wanting to ask him about Mr. Darcy but could not quite think of how to approach the subject.

Jane and Bingley seemed happy in their conversation with each other, and Elizabeth was going to slow her pace to let them have some privacy in what they were talking about, but right before she did, Mr. Bingley turned to her, “I am sorry Miss Elizabeth, this is a bit awkward, but I have a feeling you might like to know. Mr. Darcy left for London early this morning.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug and turned back to Jane.

Elizabeth happily let them walk a bit faster than her, as she was caught up in wondering about Darcy. _Why would he leave? Has he given up on us already? Does he think we cannot work through it? Do I think we can?_ She half-heartedly kicked at a little rock near her shoe. _Maybe this is just as well. We can get some distance and see what we both think_. She closed her eyes, stopping where she was, and tried to concentrate on him.

_Mr. Darcy? Are you there?_

Nothing buy silence greeted her, and she was not sure what to think of that. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy had decided to ride his horse to London and was keen to set a quick pace. However, right before he reached the edge of Hertfordshire, he thought saw the old woman from the night at the ball. He reigned in his horse, deciding on a lark that he wanted to talk with her again.

“Hello, Madam. I do not know if I ever got your name.”

“You did not, Mr. Darcy. While I might hold that against you at another time, I think I can say that it was understandable under the circumstances.”

Darcy felt himself blushing. “I wanted to ask about how you know what is going on?”

“Oh, Dear, when you get to my age, you will realize that you have seen it all before. What you are feeling right now probably feels devastating and like there is no hope.” She looked at him, seeing the answer in his eyes, “But remember, even Shakespeare acknowledged that the course of true love never did run smooth.”

“It is just that,” Darcy stumbled over his words, not sure what to share but somehow feeling so calm with this older woman. _She makes me feel safe. Almost like I am a little boy again and there is nothing to worry over_. “I . . . that is to say, my parents were a fated pair, and I so wanted what I saw them share.”

“Ah, this life, this love is not theirs. This is your own. It must be its own path.”

He looked at her, wanting to ask more, but unsure what to say.

She surprised him, yet again, by taking his hand. “Come on, Mr. Darcy. Come to my cottage. It is just here. I was merely working on my garden. You come have some tea before you finish your journey. It will be better for you.”

 _Will it?_ He wondered. _But there is something about this gentle old woman. She makes me feel like it is not all lost._

He let himself be led to her home, and they did have a lovely morning together. They ended up talking of many things, and most of them about the old woman’s life. It was not until Darcy was back on his horse, galloping to London that he realized he still did not have her name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from “[you shall above all things be glad and young],” which I love all around, but especially for its last two lines:  
> you shall above all things be glad and young  
> For if you’re young, whatever life you wear
> 
> it will become you; and if you are glad  
> whatever’s living will yourself become.  
> Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:  
> i can entirely her only love
> 
> whose any mystery makes every man’s  
> flesh put space on; and his mind take off time
> 
> that you should ever think, may god forbid  
> and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:  
> for that way knowledge lies, the foetal grave  
> called progress, and negation’s dead undoom.
> 
> I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing  
> than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance


	6. Into the Silver Dawn

Elizabeth was still lost in thought playing with the button in her hand when Jane came hurrying up to her. _I have not quite done my job as a chaperone,_ Elizabeth realized with a smile. She really had forgotten to keep looking up and keep them in her sights. _I suppose it is a good thing that they come running back to me_.

“Oh Lizzy! I am so happy.”

Elizabeth felt her heart warm the first time since she had woken up at seeing her sister smiling so much. “Why, what has happened, Jane?” She noticed Bingley peeking out behind Jane, looking excited and nervous himself.

“Charles has just asked me to marry him. Oh, Lizzy.” Jane looked like she was lit from the inside, her brightness warming everyone around her.

Elizabeth embraced her, “I am so happy for you, Jane!”

Mr. Bingley shuffled up a bit awkwardly, but he was beaming himself. “I am so honored Miss Elizabeth. I was worried I would not be able to secure her hand.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow delicately. “Were you?” _Silly man, anyone could see that Jane loved you_. “Let us go share the good news with Mother and Father.”

Jane grabbed Elizabeth’s arm along with Mr. Bingley’s. She bent down to whisper in her sister’s ear, “Maybe this will make Mother less cross with you.”

“Goodness. I can only hope. Imagine me, married to Mr. Collins. It would be a disaster.”

“Especially since you belong with another.”

“Jane!”

“What? You must admit that it is kind of magical. You are part of a fated pair. My own sister.” Jane said somewhat louder as she picked her head up and looked over the field. She leaned a bit closer to Mr. Bingley’s side. “I feel like I am too, but it would have been nice to have it confirmed by fate.”

Elizabeth hmphed, “Or supposed fate. What does it know anyway?”

“Lizzy, I thought you were feeling better about trying to mend things?”

“I can hardly do that when he runs away.”

“Yes, Charles, why did your friend leave so abruptly.”

Mr. Bingley looked startled to be included in the conversation and shook himself. “I am sorry, dear. I was rather daydreaming. What are you two talking about?”

Jane giggled into his side more, and Elizabeth smiled. “Looks like you two need a little more time to talk. Walk together. I will be just behind.”

She fell back once more and looked happily at her sister joined with the man she loved. _I am happy for Jane. Of course, I am. What kind of sister would I be if I was not happy for her. But. . . Well._

Elizabeth stopped a moment and poked at what she thought of as The Wall. She could feel that it was constructed. That whenever she thought of Darcy, he was there but simply not accessible. _Did I do this? But he needed to hear what I thought, right? He was ridiculous when he talked with me after our dance. He did not even ask me to marry him._ She sighed and rolled the button in her hand. She looked down at it and then back up to Jane and Mr. Bingley walking before her. She followed along at a much more sedate pace.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After everyone had celebrated the joy of Jane’s engagement to Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth left to go to the parish. She was hoping to talk with someone who understood this whole fated pair reality better than herself. However, when she got to the parish, she could not find Father Matt anywhere.

“Father Matt?” She called. But received no answer.

She ended up to the side of the church, absently walking through the cemetery. She saw Mrs. Bridges, a kind old woman who came to many of the balls and parties, even though everyone knew her husband had died about ten years ago. _Was not she rumored to be part of a fated pair?_ Elizabeth felt herself get excited.

As she got closer to where Mrs. Bridges was sitting on a bench, the old woman lifted her face. “Ah, I was wondering when I would see you, Little Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth smiled at the old name. She curtsied slightly, “Mrs. Bridges. It has been too long.”

“So it has. But I think you have other things to discuss rather than just how much time has passed.” Mrs. Bridges patted the seat next to her. “Come, sit down. Ask me any questions you have.”

“How do you know I have questions for you?”

“Because I saw your Other Half when he was leaving. He seemed quite devastated; you know?” She asked as if she were talking about the weather.

“You saw Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth did not even think about how that confirmed Mr. Darcy as her Other Half.

“I did. I saw him the night of the Netherfield ball too. Did you know he stayed through the rest of it? I rather think it was to spare any bad words against his friend. That seems to be a kind thing to do. He also stopped by my house and had some tea on his way out of town. He is a delightful man.”

“He is?” _Him? Delightful? Kind?_ Elizabeth first wanted to be irritated at such a different account of Darcy than she had heard thus far, but she could not work up any anger at this older woman who seemed so genuine. “He always seemed so prideful and arrogant.”

“Yes. He did behave rather abominably when he first got here. Yet, I have a feeling you know why.”

Elizabeth thought back on the mind letter he had left her _. His sister would have just had her trouble. Maybe this is first time away from her since the debacle with Wickham. I am sure that put him off any sort of society. But why come . . . as a favor to Mr. Bingley, probably._ Elizabeth slouched back into the bench, sighing.

Mrs. Bridges smiled. “See. I knew you would know. It is hard though, is it not, when your Other Half is not at all what you are expecting?”

“You . . . Forgive me for prying, but you had an Other Half, right?”

“Quite right, Child. He was the very best of men. Quiet, thoughtful. A hard worker.”

“I remember my father consulting him about some land usages.” Elizabeth offered quietly.

Mrs. Bridges nodded. “Yes, Hamish loved to talk about land.” She seemed to let her eyes glaze over for a few seconds. “That was the trouble, you know. He was not exactly of my class, and even more, he was a Scott. I thought my world was over. I would never be able to be with him. What a stupid girl.”

“What happened? How did you get back together with him?”

Mrs. Bridges looked over to her. “It was hard. I had done something rather stupid, that I needed his help to undo. I had a good friend who showed me that it was more important to be with him than to be bound by societal expectations. Though that had really scared me at the time. It meant I could no longer see my brother or his family. That was the hardest part.”

Elizabeth surprised herself by grabbing her hand. “That sounds horrible.”

“It was not wonderful, but you know, I realized that my brother died a few years back. Do you think I should try to see my niece and nephew?”

“Their father is gone? What about their mother?”

Mrs. Bridges nodded at that, even more sorrowfully. “Then yes, I think it would be welcome to have an Aunt, especially one as wise as you, in their lives.”

Mrs. Bridges seemed to be lit by inner light upon hearing that. “I think I will reach out. With poor Hamish gone, I do not think they would reject me anyway. I miss family.”

Elizabeth sat with her in the quiet cemetery for another hour. Not really talking. Both were thinking about what they might need to do. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy sat in his favorite room of his London house. It had been nice to see Georgiana, but she had realized something was wrong with him. She still felt too shy to question her brother, which made Darcy feel even worse. He knew he should talk with her, but he could not bring himself to do it. _Besides everything feels muted now. I am just like Aunt Gertrude. I will be a shadow of myself, but it is what I deserve. I cannot believe how I acted in Hertfordshire. I wonder if I had acted better if Wickham’s lies would not be so easily believed._

He pushed himself out of his chair and began pacing. _I cannot say I am wrong about her family, but that does not seem to matter so much. What if she does have some silly sisters? Mine is hardly without fault. Although that cannot really be laid at her feet. I think I must bear the burden of that. If I were a better brother and caregiver that would have never happened. If I had talked more about mother and father. So many ifs. If only Elizabeth would give me another chance. Is there a way I can show her I am willing to listen? Maybe I should go back and stay with Charles. I could bring back Georgiana and say I was going to London to get her._

He rather liked that idea and decided it is exactly what he ought to do. He went to go find and Georgiana. “Sister?” he knocked at her door.

"Come in Fitzwilliam.”

“I have a question for you. And please be honest with me. I would like to go back to Netherfield Park. There are some things I feel like I should do. Some things you might help me with. But I am not sure if you are feeling ready to face anyone, and I know how you feel about Bingley’s sisters.”

“Does this have something to do with how . . . different you seem?”

Darcy sighed, “It could.” He agreed. He leaned back in the chair next to hers. “Let me tell you.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

One morning, about two days after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been formed, as he and the females of the family were sitting together in the dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors, and besides, the equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbors. The horses were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who preceded it, were familiar to them. As it was certain, however, that somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid the confinement of such an intrusion and walk away with him into the shrubbery. They both set off, and the conjectures of the remaining three continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown open and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh, so known because she had their maid announce her thusly.

They were of course all intending to be surprised; but their astonishment was beyond their expectation since she was so perfectly unknown to all of them.

She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no other reply to anyone’s salutation than a slight inclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word. After sitting for a moment in silence, Lady Catherine said very stiffly to Elizabeth, “I hope you are well. I suppose you are Miss Bennet who I have heard so much about in letters from my parson and from . . . other sources. That lady, I suppose, is your mother.”

Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.

“And that I suppose is one of your sisters.”

“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to Lady Catherine. “She is my youngest girl but one. My eldest is somewhere about the grounds, walking with a young man who will soon become a part of the family.”

“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine after a short silence.

“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say; but I assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”

“This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, in summer; the windows are full west.”

Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner.

Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her ladyship to take some refreshment; but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely, declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth, “Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favor me with your company.”

“Go, my dear,” cried her mother, “and show her ladyship about the different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”

Elizabeth obeyed, and running into her own room for her parasol, attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the hall, Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlor and drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be decent looking rooms, walked on.

Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to make no effort for conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and disagreeable.

 _Her nephew is as unlike to this aunt as Mr. Bingley is to his sister_ , she thought as she looked in her face.

As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the following manner:— “You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come.”

Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment. “Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honor of seeing you here.”

“Miss Bennet,” replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.”

“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, coloring with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?”

“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”

“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence.”

“If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad? Some will have it said you two are fated, which is ridiculous, of course.”

“I never heard that it was.”

“And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation for it?”

“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.”

“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”

“Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”

“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in.”

“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”

“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”

“But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behavior as this, ever induce me to be explicit.”

“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”

“Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.”

Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied: “The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favorite wish of his mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles, we planned the union: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”

“Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honor nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him? Besides which, he told me that his parents were a fated pair. I think he might want to give credence to something that seemed so enjoyed by his beloved parents, whatever you say his mother wished.”

“Because honor, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you willfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us. We have done this before to a member of the family who threw us aside to marry someone beneath her, and we will not hesitate to do it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This poem comes from “[All in green went my love riding]:”  
> All in green went my love riding  
> on a great horse of gold  
> into the silver dawn.
> 
> four lean hounds crouched low and smiling  
> the merry deer ran before.
> 
> Fleeter be they than dappled dreams  
> the swift sweet deer  
> the red rare deer.
> 
> Four red roebuck at a white water  
> the cruel bugle sang before.
> 
> Horn at hip went my love riding  
> riding the echo down  
> into the silver dawn.
> 
> four lean hounds crouched low and smiling  
> the level meadows ran before.
> 
> Softer be they than slippered sleep  
> the lean lithe deer  
> the fleet flown deer.
> 
> Four fleet does at a gold valley  
> the famished arrow sang before.
> 
> Bow at belt went my love riding  
> riding the mountain down  
> into the silver dawn.
> 
> four lean hounds crouched low and smiling  
> the sheer peaks ran before.
> 
> Paler be they than daunting death  
> the sleek slim deer  
> the tall tense deer.
> 
> Four tall stags at a green mountain  
> the lucky hunter sang before.
> 
> All in green went my love riding  
> on a great horse of gold  
> into the silver dawn.
> 
> four lean hounds crouched low and smiling  
> my heart fell dead before.


	7. Life is Not a Paragraph

Elizabeth breathed in deeply. This conversation was proving very trying, and she was working to keep her temper. _No wonder Mr. Darcy was always in such a state if this is some of the only family he has left. She clearly does not care about him. She disgusts me._ “These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”

“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”

“That will make your ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me.”

“I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, honorable, and ancient—though untitled—families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune. And certainly not something as ridiculous and unreal as fate. Is this to be endured! But it must not, shall not be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”

“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are equal.”

“True. You are a gentleman’s daughter. But who was your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition.”

“Whatever my connections may be,” said Elizabeth, “if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you.”

“Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?”

Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a moment’s deliberation: “I am not.”

Lady Catherine seemed pleased. “And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?”

“I will make no promise of the kind.” Elizabeth felt overwhelmed with frustration and humiliation. Only squeezing the button, she seemed to never be without, calmed her down.

“Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require.”

“And I certainly never shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make their marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be fated to me, would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject.”

“Not so hasty, if you please. I am by no means done.”

“You can now have nothing further to say,” Elizabeth answered. “You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg to return to the house.”

And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned back. Her ladyship was highly incensed.

“You have no regard, then, for the honor and credit of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?”

“Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.”

“You are then resolved to have him?”

“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”

“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honor, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in the opinion of all his friends and make him the contempt of the world.”

“Neither duty, nor honor, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either would be violated by my marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former were excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s concern—and the world in general would have too much sense to join in the scorn.”

“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you reasonable; but, depend upon it, I will carry my point.”

In this manner Lady Catherine talked on, till they were at the door of the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added, “I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”

Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother impatiently met her at the door of the dressing-room, to ask why Lady Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.

“She did not choose it,” said her daughter, “she would go.” Elizabeth let her mother speculate on and went to her room, carefully closing the door. She sank into the window seat, and leaned against the glass, watching Lady Catherine’s carriage rumble off into the distance.

One hand rubbed the button in her palm and her other smoothed against her heart. _I really do not know you, Mr. Darcy, but I find that ache for you. I want to tell you about your ridiculous aunt. Would we laugh and be able to compare which of our aunts are worse? Would you not? Would you be angry with me for how I spoke to her? I know she is one of your last living relatives. But really. She was horrible._ Elizabeth tried to push against the mental wall she felt between them. _I find myself desperately wanting to get to know you._ Elizabeth rubbed at her chest, which ached.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy sat outside in one of the gardens of Netherfield, watching the sun reach its pinnacle. He had arrived not two hours ago and was letting Georgiana refresh herself. He was not that surprised to find Charles gone, he rather thought he knew where he was. _I suppose I will have to wait until tomorrow to go to Longbourn with him_.

As he sat and watched the trees dance in the wind, the old woman from before stood in front of him. He startled a little, but quickly recovered and stood up, bowing to her. “I am afraid I still do not know your name.”

She smiled at him, “I have to admit that I rather did not want to tell you, in case you knew it. You see, I am Gertrude Bridges.”

“Gertrude?”

“Yes, do you remember what a sweet boy you were. Such a comfort to me that summer, and one of the reasons I decided to follow your mother’s advice and throw off society altogether. I wanted a boy like you with my own Other Half. I never regretted it.”

“Aunt!” Darcy embraced her without a thought. “I have missed you.”

"Have you, dear boy? I should not have stayed away it seems.”

“Of course, you should not have. We all missed you terribly. Father was even asking for you in his last days. He just wanted to see his sister again.”

Tears gleamed in her eyes, “Thank you for that.”

Their reunion was cut a little short because Darcy was suddenly conscious of someone marching purposefully up to him. He instinctively moved in between his two aunts. “Aunt Catherine?” He said more in shock than in greeting.

“Nephew, I am most seriously displeased.” She proceeded to relate the entirety of the ridiculous conversation she had with poor Miss Elizabeth. And only then seemed to notice Aunt Gertrude peeking out from behind him. “You!” She shrieked.

Darcy felt himself getting full of anger, if a bit muted. “You spoke to a stranger in this way? You said that I was engaged to Anne and that you would not allow anyone to speak with us again? Aunt. You have seriously overstepped. That is not yours to promise. Do you think you can force Georgiana to stop speaking with me? Do you think I care what you think at all? You know I was never going to marry Anne. I cannot believe you are still holding on to that delusion. Mother never wanted me to marry anyone except my fated pair, if I had one. And that is what I intend to do.” He turned his back fully on Aunt Catherine and took his other aunt’s hands in his own, “You know I need to go talk to Miss Elizabeth. Will you wait inside for me? Find Georgiana. She would love to meet you,” he leaned closer to whisper, “And make sure Aunt Catherine does not bother Georgiana. She hates to be with her.”

Aunt Gertrude smiled at him, squeezing his hands. “It will be my pleasure. Now, go find your Other Half. She can help you undo what I can tell you tried. Do not worry.”

Darcy walked away, leaving Lady Catherine outside of Netherfield to figure her own self out. He felt invigorated after hearing how Miss Elizabeth pushed against all of Aunt Catherine’s rude statements.

_I am not going to wait until tomorrow. I need to try to speak with Elizabeth today_.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When he reached Longbourn, he saw Bingley sitting outside with Jane and walked up to them. “I am sorry to disturb you both, but Miss Bennet, would you do me the favor of getting Miss Elizabeth. I find I need to speak with her rather urgently.”

Jane shared a look with her Mr. Bingley and got up, “I will go, but you need to be careful and treat her well, Mr. Darcy.”

He blinked a bit in surprise at Jane but nodded his head firmly. “Of course.”

Elizabeth came floating outside, taking Darcy’s breath away. He really felt like a cliché, _but that seems to be what fated pairs really are_. He cautiously offered her his arm. “May we walk about your garden, Miss Elizabeth.”

She seemed to be searching his eyes but accepted his arm.

“First you must allow me to apologize for the incredibly rude behavior of my aunt. I just heard about what she said to you, and I burn with shame.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“It is quite alright, Mr. Darcy. I know that she is not the only trying aunt we have between us.”

That brought a surprising smile to Darcy’s face, and for a second Elizabeth felt dazed by it. _Is that what he looks like when he smiles?_ She wondered. _He really does look handsome._

“Thank you for walking with me.” Darcy said, fumbling a bit, and turning red. “I am not really sure what I can say. I have realized how important you are to me, and I want to respect your wishes, but Miss Elizabeth, do you think there is a chance I could change. I could work on myself, and we could try again together?”

Elizabeth squeezed the arm she was holding onto as he directed her around the garden. “Mr. Darcy, I have to confess this is rather what I wanted to hear from you. I was disappointed that you seemed to give up so easily. I want you to know that I believed your letter, and I am sorry I prioritized Mr. Wickham over you.”

“Quite understandable under the circumstances.” Darcy said, rubbing his neck with shame.

“Come, come.” Elizabeth chastised gently. “We both have things to work on, and already I see you a little more clearly, I think.”

He smiled at her, “Would you be open to me taking down the mind wall?”

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. “Please. It has felt so wrong in my head.”

“Has it?” He asked a bit breathlessly. “Aunt Gertrude said I would need your help. I think,” he cautiously took both her hands in his own, “I am not really sure how to tear it down.”

He broke off. Elizabeth smiled at him, feeling suddenly the importance of the button that was now clutched between them. She looked deeply into Darcy’s eyes, and imagined tearing the wall down. Both of them jolted, something happened in their minds. The wall seemed to disappear in the span of one second to the next.

Elizabeth felt her mind flood with so many thoughts and emotions, she leaned into Darcy to make sure she did not fall over. The loudest thoughts were _Yes. Love. Right. Good._

She looked up into Darcy’s eyes, which now seemed to come to life. They were a warm, inviting brown and held such love in them. _I almost cannot bear to look._

_No, please Elizabeth. Look with me._

Upon hearing his voice in her head again, a joyful smile spread widely across her face. _Shall we begin our work?_

He smiled at her and nodded his head. He led her back to the bench where Jane and Bingley looked at them both, enjoying the knowledge that they had just witnessed something beautiful.

“I cannot wait to introduce you to Georgiana, Elizabeth. I think you are going to like her a great deal.”

“I am sure I will.” Elizabeth assured.

_And I want you to meet one Aunt I do not need to feel embarrassed about._

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically but decided there was plenty of time to understand her Other Half. They had their whole lives, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title comes from the brilliant “[since feeling is first].” You know I can never stop talking about how much I love these poems - but this one is especially EPIC!!!! Like wowowoowowoww - I get chills every time I read it. Did I just read it aloud to Pennyworth and tear up? YES! Hahahaha - read it out for yourself and let those last stanzas sing!  
> since feeling is first  
> who pays any attention  
> to the syntax of things  
> will never wholly kiss you;
> 
> wholly to be a fool  
> while Spring is in the world
> 
> my blood approves,  
> and kisses are a better fate  
> than wisdom  
> lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry  
> – the best gesture of my brain is less than  
> your eyelids’ flutter which says
> 
> we are for each other; then  
> laugh, leaning back in my arms  
> for life’s not a paragraph
> 
> And death i think is no parenthesis


	8. Death is no Parenthesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few snapshots through time for this Elizabeth and Darcy!

Bingley was hosting a small dinner to allow both sets of lovers to have more time together and for the families to meet each other in a smaller setting. Darcy felt like he was looking like a fool. He just could not stop smiling. He watched as Elizabeth deftly drew Georgiana out. _She is so good at making us Darcys feel comfortable. It makes me feel like I am not trapped in societal expectations at all_. Georgiana was leaning close to hear what Elizabeth was saying to her and Aunt Gertrude. They all broke into joyous laughter.

The night had started off rather like an ill-sprung carriage ride. Introductions were being exchanged when Lydia declared she did not want to meet any other Darcy. She had actually stamped her feet, in a true show of pique. Mr. Bennet had been embarrassed enough to ask to meet with her privately. She had behaved better since the meeting, but a bitterness seemed to pervade the room when Lydia was nearby. Darcy thought it strange.

Aunt Gertrude gestured, bringing Darcy back into the moment. He moved to sit with her. Elizabeth and Georgiana were also seated quite close by, and Aunt Gertrude addressed Darcy, “Fitzwilliam, tell me what this is I hear about you mocking Miss Elizabeth’s family.” Aunt Gertrude pinned Darcy with her fierce eyes.

Darcy felt himself blushing, “Aunt Gertrude!” He said a bit helplessly.

“No. Do not give me some irreputable excuse. Who could be worse than Lady Catherine?”

Darcy could not (nor did he really want to) stop the inelegant snort he gave at that. “You are quite right, Aunt.”

“If only all aunts were like you, Aunt Gertrude.” Georgiana’s quiet voice joined the conversation, surprising Darcy in the best way.

“Oh I could not agree more, dear child.” Aunt Gertrude patted Georgiana’s hand.

Elizabeth leaned closer, “I cannot wait to introduce you to my Aunt Gardiner. She grew up in Derbyshire.” Elizabeth clearly was nervous at mentioning her, _Why does mentioning her make you nervous, Miss Elizabeth._

Elizabeth met his eyes a little startled but smiled warmly. The past two days had been a joy, exploring how the mind link worked. _Nothing to worry about just yet, Mr. Darcy. You will need to work for that information_.

Darcy grinned dopily, which made Aunt Gertrude clear her throat so that he would attend to the conversation she and Georgiana were having. It did not seem to matter. His eyes would hold onto Elizabeth. The evening was so much more fun with the ability to send idle thoughts to _his_ Elizabeth who never shied away from engaging with them. _We really are well suited to each other._ Darcy wished he could take her hand in his, taken with an intense desire to feel her hand in his own. _Something to look forward to in the coming weeks._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled as she watched Darcy fidget in his seat. _I cannot believe I did not notice how restless you always are. You better attend or Mother will work even harder to keep your attention_.

She watched with great satisfaction as Darcy straightened up in his chair and carefully looked at Mrs. Bennet as she prattled on about the different types of lace to be procured in Meryton versus London. _I am listening, Miss Elizabeth_. Darcy tried to sound stern, but she felt his humor.

 _Do not worry. I will rescue you_. “Mother, I think Mr. Darcy and I had better go for a walk. Jane and Mr. Bingley will want to join us as well.”

“Very well. Do not be gone too long.” Mrs. Bennet sighed as she watched her daughters exit with their men. Elizabeth noticed a somewhat smug look gracing her face, which made her smile at Mr. Darcy to see if he noticed it.

He did not, far too busy looking carefully at Elizabeth’s face. They allowed Jane and Mr. Bingley to outpace them and were enjoying a leisurely walk.

“Come Mr. Darcy, let us have some conversation between us.”

“As you wish, Miss Elizabeth. Instruct me what you would most like to hear, and I will be happy to oblige.”

Elizabeth wanted to pinch his arm, but the warmth she felt through it was far too satisfying to jeopardize it being taken away. “What do you miss most when you are away from Pemberley?”

“My dogs.” Darcy answered immediately.

The answer so surprised Elizabeth she stopped and turned to look at him closely. _Your dogs?_

_Yes, I have a kennel with many sweet dogs, but I keep two that are truly mine. They live inside of the house. I hope you do not think that too boorish._

Elizabeth smiled at him and leaned a bit closer. _Not at all. I find that quite charming. I love dogs, but Mother is not too fond of them. We have only ever been able to play with friends’ dogs._

Darcy nudged her gently. _I look forward to changing that_.

“Ugh. What is this?” Lydia’s voice broke through the internal conversation Elizabeth and Darcy were sharing. “I cannot believe you two were just staring at each other.”

“We were also talking to each other,” Elizabeth mentioned a bit embarrassed at being caught out.

“Well, I did not hear anything.”

“Excuse our bad behavior, Miss Lydia. We were using our mind link.” Darcy said. Elizabeth smiled at his clear pleasure in being able to say that. Neither of them was expecting Lydia’s sudden outburst.

“Not those ridiculous lies again! Lizzy, you cannot be serious. Are you really just pretending to be fated to him so that you can get all his money? It is so funny. What a good joke.”

“Lydia!” Elizabeth exclaimed horrified.

“We all know you cannot stand him. And who would blame you. Such an – ”

“Enough. You had better leave us. I cannot stand to see you right now.” Elizabeth’s anger was clear, and even Lydia was not foolish enough to press once she heard her sister’s tone of voice.

Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s arm gently. She was surprised when he did not think anything to her, but when she looked at him, she found herself satisfied enough just looking into his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Come on, Mrs. Darcy. Come on.” Darcy tugged Elizabeth’s hand, which was happily captured in his own. “I have been patiently waiting to show you this for a month.”

Elizabeth smiled at his almost whiny tone. “One would think you had already showered me with enough gifts, Mr. Darcy.” The names still felt new and both enjoyed calling the other the matching name. _Even more of a connection._ Darcy could not help the smugness that entered into his voice. Elizabeth had been patient with him and pulled herself closer to him to give him a quick kiss.

“This is not just another set of jewels or clothes. This is something I have been carefully planning since that day we walked and talked about my dogs.”

Elizabeth’s curiosity was clearly peaked as she happily followed where her husband was leading. They had been at Pemberley for about a week, and there had been much to do. Darcy knew Elizabeth had felt more than a little overwhelmed, so he had tried to wait with this last surprise. _Well not really the last. I do not think I will get tired of giving you gifts anytime soon, my Love._

Elizabeth blushed, but leaned into her husband’s side. _What is it, Fitzwilliam?_

“Just a few more, ah – here we go.”

Elizabeth heard the dogs yipping and barking, “Your kennels?”

“Yes. I thought you would enjoy seeing them. You have already taken to Achilles and Hector so well.”

“Of course, I have. They are the dearest dogs. I am so glad you let them sleep inside.”

Darcy ducked his head, well pleased that his Other Half did not find his adoration of his dogs an imposition. _Hopefully, you will enjoy this last surprise._

_I already do. I cannot tell you how happy I am that we have these kennels on our property. It is so exciting._

“I wrote the Kennel Master that same day, and we have been discussing it – and things were able to be arranged just perfectly. And – well, just come on.” Darcy pulled Elizabeth with him through the doors.

They were greeted by an older man with the kindest eyes. They always made Darcy feel warm. “Ah, we have been waiting for you, Madam.” He addressed Elizabeth, which Darcy could tell pleased her. “This way.” He took them to a back room where puppies were running through their tired mother’s legs. “Here are eight of the best. They have all been weened and are about two and a half months old.”

Elizabeth looked at Darcy quizzically. _Are you saying, Do I get to pick one?_

 _I thought you might enjoy your own dog. Achilles and Hector will get on well with a puppy. It will remind them to be young again. And you deserve a companion of your very own. If you would like._ Darcy knew he was blushing like a fool, but he so wanted to help Elizabeth to be happy.

Elizabeth let out a rather unladylike squeal that startled the Kennel Master but made Darcy smile and pull her into a warm hug. He watched with great pleasure as Elizabeth played with each of the puppies, demanding he get down and play too. _The puppy needs to get along with you as well since they will see just as much of you as they do of me!_

 _Right as always_ , Darcy smiled as he leaned forward to knock a piece of hay that stuck in Elizabeth’s hair. The Kennel Master had left sometime ago, and Elizabeth and Darcy spent a few hours playing with the puppies, stopping to kiss every now and then. Elizabeth held her squirming choice closely as they walked back to the house. Halfway through she got too tired, and Darcy was only too happy to oblige and carry her and the puppy the rest of the way. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth felt like she could not stop crying. She smoothed her hand over Helen’s fur, which did help to calm her. The puppy had grown into the most obedient dog. Darcy often declared himself jealous of her good behavior. She had been Elizabeth’s close companion for the past eight years, through three births, and now her first close death.

Darcy came back into the room quietly and sat next to her. He pulled her into his arms. _I never get tired of you holding me, Fitzwilliam. Pull me closer._

 _Anything you wish, my Love. I wish I could take your pain away_.

Elizabeth grabbed his hand and squeezed it. _That is not how it works, but you will help me halve it._ She leaned closer and smelled the soothing scent of her husband. He looked a little more distinguished these days, just a little silver at the sides of his hair. _So handsome,_ she leaned in to rub his hair a bit.

_Do you want to talk about it?_

_Talk about how my sister killed herself because she could never know the true love of a fated pair. How she blamed me in her letter, saying that if I had not been her sister, she would never have seen how happy I was. How much my position was to be envied? How – I am sorry, Fitzwilliam. I just . . . cannot make sense of it._

Darcy hugged her tighter to him. _I know, Love. It is not fair. You tried to help her. She was just too convinced that she would be a part of a fated pair. She let that root of bitterness take over her life. You could not control that. You helped your other sisters find good marriages. You would have done the same for Lydia. If she had let you_.

“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth whispered out loud, hearing her voice break from disuse. “Will you go with me back to Longbourn?”

“Of course. We will spend some time with your parents.”

“Mother is going to need some support.”

“We will give it to her.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The happy shrieks of children’s laughter reached the ears Darcy sitting in a gazebo near the children’s play. He held the hand his Elizabeth, gently thinking _I love you_ to her. She did not respond, but she did not respond to much these days.

“Grandfather, do you need anything?” Richard asked. He was their youngest grandchild, only forty-two years old, which seemed almost like a child to Darcy now. The children playing in the distance were Darcy’s great grandchildren. They had twenty of them already and Madeline, Richard’s wife, was pregnant with another.

Darcy leaned down and patted Helen’s own great great great grandchild who lay at his feet. “No, thank you Richard. Grandmother and I will sit here for another hour or so. Until the children are ready to go inside.”

“Of course.” Richard leaned forward to kiss Darcy on his forehead, which made him feel wistful. _Remember, Love. That is how we always said goodbye to our children._

 _Of course, I remember. Not likely to forget that_. Elizabeth thought back to him.

Darcy smiled.


End file.
